


Keep It Shining

by KelpietheThundergod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas in the Bunker, Extended Winchester Family, M/M, Or Does It, Team Free Will, dean tries too hard and it gets him into trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpietheThundergod/pseuds/KelpietheThundergod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dean wants is to have a nice Christmas with his family. Naturally, he almost gets himself killed for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep It Shining

One day before Christmas, Dean is standing in a Target with a cart stacked so high with stuff it's like a miniature mountain range, and one that's gonna be in serious danger of a fatal landslide if he keeps throwing more stuff on top of it.

Which is why they actually have two carts, only Dean has dispatched Cas to go ahead to the fruit aisle and pick apples and oranges out for him and the others, and Cas had taken the second cart with him, even though there was barely any space left in that one too.

That was about ten minutes ago, maybe even more, but Dean is still standing where Cas left him, in the section with the frozen vegetables, staring at different packs of peas without really seeing them.

There are just – so many. And he's trying to pick out organic whenever it's possible, because that's important to Cas, and Sam, _and_ Charlie, and possibly Kevin too. Which is one of the reasons Dean's doing the Christmas shopping now, when it's hell on earth everywhere they sell anything, because apparently Dean's family consists to 98% of nerds and hippies, and nerds and hippies need fresh and chemical-free stuff, and Dean wants to fucking cook a Christmas dinner for them, and he wants to get it _right_.

Sam, Cas, Kevin – hell, basically all of Dean's family has been through so much shit, have lost and lost so much, and fuck, Dean's failed them often enough, he should at least be able to pick out the right kind of _stupid frozen peas_ for them.

He drags a hand over his face, _get a grip Winchester_ , _come on_ , and that's when a warm hand lands on his shoulder. Dean turns around and there's Cas, out of nowhere and standing too close as always, staring at Dean searchingly.

“What's wrong?”

Dean opens his mouth, closes is again because he has no fucking clue how to explain himself. He could say it's the fucking noise, and the five billion annoyed people they're trapped in this stupid store with, but that's not really it, and apparently it hurts Cas' stupid heart when Dean tries to lie to him to make him feel better. Also, it's Cas, not Dean, who hates shopping when there's lot's of people, and who dislikes most things about Christmas – the hordes of people, and the stupid music and whole capitalistic agenda behind it. Cas doesn't really get why Dean wants to cook enough food for a basketball team, and haul a tree into the bunker, but he's helping Dean regardless. It's must be one of the reasons Dean seriously doesn't deserve him.

Cas let's his hand slide down Dean's shoulder to his arm, starts rubbing slow circles into it with his thumb. “Is this about the case?” he asks, concern and sympathy bleeding into the rumble of his voice.

Dean stops, stares. It's been three weeks since – they'd investigated what looked like vampire kills and walked right into a family drama, three teenage vampires who'd ran away from their nest because they'd refused to hurt humans, and now their former family was after them. Dean, Cas and Sam had tried to help them, but it was all for nothing, and the whole thing ended in a blood bath. He'd barely knew them for a few days, but Dean had kind of liked Harris, Jaqueline and Joe. They'd fucking – they'd just deserved better, a second chance.

He'd thought he was over it, or, kind of. Maybe not really. At least he doesn't really have to explain this to Cas, who, even fallen and bereft of most of his powers, seems to still be eerily atoned to whatever is going on with Dean at any given time.

The plans for this Christmas though, Dean had started to form long before that case.

So, he shakes his head, takes a deep breath and gestures vaguely at the frozen food aisle, “I'm just uh, I'm just trying to get this right, you know?”

And yeah, he basically sucks at trying to explain himself, but Cas – Cas just gets it, somehow. His expression instantly softens, he withdraws his hand but stays close. “I know, Dean. I know you are.”

He might not get _why_ this is important to Dean, but he understands that it _is_ important to him, and so he supports Dean regardless.

Dean coughs, embarrassed, and gestures at the food again, “Yeah, so, help me pick these out?”

>

It takes an eternity to get all the groceries inside and stashed away, because he and Cas are currently alone in the bunker. Mercifully, Cas doesn't say anything about the possibility that not all of the people Dean wants to have home at Christmas are gonna show up, but he does shoot Dean concerned glances ever so often. And ok, maybe Dean is kind of nervous, and maybe hasn't slept much the last couple of nights, like, even less than normally, but he _had_ to plan this right.

Sam, at least, is definitely gonna come over. Dean had kind of made a fool of himself, trying to ask Sam to come, while also falling over himself trying to assure him that, if Sam would rather spend the time with his buddies over at his part-time job at the mythology department in Kansas City, that'd be perfectly cool too, seriously Sam, it's cool.

Sam, bless him, had only shaken his head at Dean, that sympathetic my-brother-is-an-idiot expression on his face, “Of course I'm gonna be there, Dean. Not even _your_ husband can eat all the food you're gonna smother us with.”

Dean had kinda, maybe, blushed at that, because they've been married for a year now, but Sam still teases him about it every chance he gets, the little shit.

“You're gonna get potatoes out of a box if you keep that up,” Dean had threatened, but Sam had only laughed at Dean's weak-ass attempt at a diversion, and then gone back to being Dean's freaking nerd of a brother, who gets boners over dusty old books written by boring old men. Seriously, how are they even related. It's gotta be a paperwork error.

He tried Garth several times, and finally just left him a voicemail. Probably Garth was super-secret undercover again, and was screening his calls or something.

Next, Dean had called Kevin, who was actually worse than Sam, because the guy seriously wanted to stay in the college dorm and fucking _study_ the whole Christmas break. In retrospect, Dean is not sure what finally worked, because Kevin is fucking stubborn if he wants to be, and probably 5000 times smarter than Dean. Still, he'd caved and promised “Ok, ok I'll be there, but only for a few hours, got it?” There was something in his voice that sounded suspiciously like pity, but Dean had promised him to figure something vegan-whatever-that-is out for him, so maybe that did it.

He has no idea if Krissy and her friends are really gonna show up – “We're not kids anymore, Dean, seriously”, but Dean hasn't seen her in quite a while, and he's been wanting to introduce Kevin to them for ages, give the kid some people his age who he doesn't have to pretend to be normal around.

Charlie was even harder to crack, probably because Dean called her just when Gilda had shown up, and Charlie wanted to make the best of their, uh, alone time together.

“Dean, look,” Charlie had said, sounding unsure, “I really wanna come, but I have to ask her first, I don't know what faeries think about Christmas traditions, and we have to figure out if the bunker's warding is even gonna let her through. Also, my car broke down, so we're gonna have to take a bus.”

“It's ok, Cas can pick you up. I'll give you his number, just give him a call when you're there.”

“Wait, where are you gonna be?”

“Gonna pick up a tree,” he'd answered, smiling, and then quickly amended when it sounded like Charlie was gonna protest, “a real-life tree, we're gonna plant it outside after, don't freak out.”

Dean's found Dan's Tree Farm on the internet, and it promises the option of trees you can buy with the whole root ball intact, and instructions on how to care for them so they don't die from the temperature transitions. It's only 277 miles from Lebanon, so the whole trip shouldn't take more than about 9 hours.

He gets ready to leave when he's finally managed to cram all the food into the kitchen – it's a big kitchen, but yeah, maybe he went a little overboard. But sue him, he can at least _hope_ everybody's gonna show up, and Sam and Cas alone both eat enough for like, five people.

For a moment, he stops, and just stares at the full cupboards, the counters he's scrubbed extra clean, the box of simple see-through glass balls he's chosen for the tree, sitting open on the table and reflecting the light back at him.

Dean can't – he can't erase all that stuff the people he loves had to go through, can't replace what they've lost, but this, a few days of good food, and the smell of pine, and maybe a movie marathon, just some fucking _peace_ , he can give them that.

He takes a deep breath – he can do this, it's gonna work out great, this time he's gonna get it right – and leaves to say goodbye to Cas.

Cas was decidedly unhappy with being left behind to hold the fort, but Sam isn't gonna make it until tomorrow, and someone has to stay behind and also pick Charlie up, or anyone else who might come in early. Dean is gonna be back by night or early morning, and he's just gonna pick up a tree, there's really nothing that could go wrong.

Dean finds Cas in the library. He hadn't even noticed Cas leaving the kitchen, but the guy is still damn stealthy when he wants to be, like when it's his turn to wash the dishes. Seriously, how come Dean marry someone who's even worse than his little brother when it comes to washing dishes, or to cornering Dean into talking about his feelings, or to nerding out about the most ridiculous stuff ever. It's an ongoing mystery.

Now, Cas is bend over what looks like several Men of Letters files, a frown of concentration on his face. All that's missing from the picture is this squinting eyes thing Cas does sometimes, like when he's baffled by slang he's never heard before, or trying to figure out if Dean's lying when he says he didn't have a crush on Harrison Ford when he was younger (he did, but come on, Han Solo was fucking cool, and he had these awesome boots and a thigh holster and – nevermind).

Dean can't help the soft smile tugging at his lips when he watches Cas. Cas, as if sensing Dean's regard (he probably does, fucking nerd angel) lifts his head, “I'm checking if there's anything we missed about the wards, so Gilda won't have trouble entering when she and Charlie come here.”

Dean steps closer until he's right by Cas' side, warmth spreading through his chest, “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas looks up to him, imploringly, and there it is, the squinty eyes. Dean smiles wider.

“Ahh, come on, Cas. You're gonna manage a few hours without me.”

Cas huffs out a breath and glares at the files in front of him.

“I know I can. I just. Dislike sleeping alone.”

Dean shakes his head in rueful fondness, and reaches out to ruffle Cas' ridiculous hair (it always stands on end, wild and untamed, even when they _didn't_ just have sex, with Dean moaning into Cas' ear and with his hands buried in Cas' hair to have something to hold onto).

“I'll better be back as fast as I can, then.”

He holds out his hand. “So, uh. Keys?”

>

There's no way a whole tree would fit into Baby, not to mention Dean would never let a motherfucking tree that near his car, so he takes Cas' pick-up truck instead. It's a brown-black monster of a thing, but Cas had wanted it, so Dean had shut his trap and worked on it until it'd met his standards and he declared it road safe.

It's a sign of how fucking gone he is on the guy that Dean doesn't even take his own music with him when he takes off with Cas' car now. Cas has several mixtapes stored in it that he put together himself, and even though his and Cas' music tastes mostly align, Cas is also still exploring what he likes and dislikes, and so his tapes are a pretty wild mix. Mostly, it's stuff that Dean has never heard about, a lot of people that either died a long time ago or are so new or so subculture, nobody's ever heard of 'em.

Cas does have a Cowboy Junkies album in his car though, and Dean never asked, but he has the sneaking suspicion that Sam has something to do with that. Little brothers are seriously the worst.

Ironically, it's Sam who calls him when Dean's driven about 3 hours and so only has about an hour and a half left until he reaches Louisburg. When he picks up the call and puts it on speaker, there's immediately the sound of people talking and laughing in the background, the clinking of glasses. Sam is probably still at the department's Christmas Party.

“Heya, Sammy.”

His brother ignores Dean's cheerful greeting and cuts right to the chase, his voice low and yep, that's definitely his embarrassed little brother tone.

“ _Dean, did you tell Clara I was thinking about adopting a dog.”_   It's not even a question. Dean immediately smiles wider.

Clara is one of Sam's co-workers, and Dean had met her when she and Dean had helped Sam install the kitchen in his apartment in Kansas City. She had black, curly hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes and Dean had immediately liked her. Judging from Sam's tendency to talk too fast around her, Sam liked her too. So Dean had, maaaaybe, casually mentioned that Sam had always wanted to have a dog, just that it hadn't been possible until now. It was a bit of a shot in the dark, since he didn't really know her back then, but her eyes had lit up at Dean's words, and apparently he'd struck gold.

“Aah, come on Sammy, I'm an awesome wingman."

“ _I_ wasn't _thinking about adopting a dog.”_

“Come one, you totally were.”

“ _Shut up.”_

Dean snorts in overplayed disbelief, and he can tell Sam is trying not to, but even through the noise of the party, he can hear his brother's huff of laughter.

“ _And you, still on tree mission?”_

“Yep.”

“ _And the husband?”_

Dean rolls his eyes, even though Sam can't see him.

“At the bunker, moping about how he's probably not gonna get any tonight.”

“ _Gross, Dean.”_

Dean smirks. Serves him right. “You earned it.”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, Dean sobers up and clears his throat, adjusts his hands on the steering wheel.

“Listen, Sam. If, uh, if you'd rather stay –”

“ _Dean, come on. I'm gonna be there. I want to be there. Just because I have a life here doesn't mean I don't wanna have a life with you guys anymore. Besides, I really can't let Cas have all the food, he's got like, even less taste than you have, it'd be a total waste.”_

Dean has to smile despite himself, but before he can say anything else, Sam's tone changes to something more serious, almost concerned.

“ _What about you? Need any help?”_

Dean isn't really sure what Sam is getting at, so he just shrugs, “Nah, I think I got it covered.”

There's a pause, and then Sam says, _“Dean, you know you don't have to do all of this right?”_

Dean sighs, because seriously? He fucking knows this, it just doesn't mean he doesn't want or that he shouldn't do this, why does everyone assume it's not gonna work out?

“Sam –”

“ _No, I mean, you know you don't have to do all of this_ on your own _, ok?”_

Dean opens his mouth, but finds that he doesn't really have a reply to this.

“Cas is guarding the food and I'm just gonna pick up a fucking tree, it's a milk run. Come on Sam, I can manage that.”

“ _Yes, yes, ok. Just – don't overdo it, ok?”_

“Oh my fucking god, Sam.”

“ _See you tomorrow, then.”_

“Yes, go back to your awkward flirting.”

“ _Screw you.”_

>

When Dean arrives at Dan's Tree Farm, it's already getting dark, but thankfully, the place is brightly lit. It's also _huge_ , like seriously, if the information on the website is correct, how does one guy manage this entire thing?

He parks the truck outside and heads straight for the little office a few feet from the entrance, because that would be fucking it, if he'd manage to get lost in a Christmas Tree Farm. The trees all look very good though, big and bushy and deep shades of green, well cared for. There don't seem to be any other customers at the moment, but hey, it's pretty close to Christmas, most people probably already got their tree, and there's actually a great deal more tree farms in this area than Dean knew.

Also, a living tree means it can't stay inside for too long, so there really was no other option but to get it basically last minute.

He gets up the short wooden staircase and enters the office, which is blissfully warm. It's about 23 degrees outside, and Dean found himself shivering quite a bit. Maybe the heater in the truck is busted.

The guy behind the counter is watching something on a tiny television crammed at the side of his desk. Christmas programs, from what it sounds like. It can only be Dan himself, Dean recognizes him from the picture on his homepage. Dan is a tall, gangly guy, pale and nervous. He looks like a stiff breeze could blow him over, but hey, Garth looks like that too, but Garth is far from being weak. Dan looks much younger though, 25, maybe.

He looks up and startles for a second when he sees Dean, probably surprised he's even getting customers that late in the game. Dan immediately jumps up, almost knocking over his chair in the process.

He looks downright scared, which, damn, Dean seriously has to work on appearing non-threatening to civilians.

He holds his hands up, instinctively drops his voice to something more soothing, “Hey, hey sorry man, didn't wanna sneak up on you. I know it's late, only I need a tree, like a living one, and I thought it best if I got it like, fresh and everything.” He smiles reassuringly for good measure, but for a moment, it's like Dan didn't even hear him, he just continues to stare in barely concealed shock.

“Uh, Dan?”

The kid seems to shake himself out of his daze and manages an uncertain smile.

“Hi, uh, uhm, sorry. I was just. Uuuh, I'm kinda sleepy, sorry. Long, uh. Day. You know.”

“... right.”

They stare at each other in awkward silence for another moment, then Dan gestures at a door behind himself, “I'll show you the trees in a sec, just, I need something from the back, you mind giving me a hand?”

Something prickles at the back of Dean's neck, a warning, but right know he has no clue what could be wrong. No way but through to find out, then.

“Sure,” he nods, “lead the way.”

They enter the backroom, Dean trying to keep Dan ahead of him, even though the guy still seems to be genuinely scared by Dean. The room is barely lit by a single naked light bulb at the ceiling, it looks like a storage with a small staircase leading down to what is probably where Dan keeps his tools. It smells overwhelmingly of pine, but there is something underneath it, something sweetly sick, something like –

Dean stops, tenses, and that's when Dan jumps to the left with inhuman speed, and before Dean can draw his silver knife, Dan's fist hits him squarely in the left eye and the force of the blow knocks him down the flight of stairs and right into the darkness.

>

He comes to slowly, and the first thing he thinks is _it's fucking cold, this is weird_.

When Cas is there, and he's always there, it's never cold in his bed, the guy is like a furnace. Might be leftover grace, or maybe it's because Cas likes to sleep curled up as closely to Dean as possible. Or maybe Dean likes sleeping as closely to Cas as possible, who cares.

The next thing is a blinding pain in his head, and his right foot, and his whole right side in general.

Never a good sign.

He groans and pries his eyes open.

He's on the ground, in what? A cellar? Then he spots movement next to him, and his eyes finally adjust to the twilight.

It's Dan, holding Dean's gun pointed at him, his arms shaking. He's staring at Dean, his eyes wide and white in the dark gloom.

“What the fuck?” Dean croaks, and great, his voice sounds completely fucked.

He sets on to say something else regardless, but Dan cuts over him, his voice pitched high and panicky, _“Please don't kill me, please!!!”_

Dean stops, because what the fuck?

“Buddy, you're the one holding me at gunpoint.”

Dan continues as if he didn't even hear Dean, his voice growing more hysterical by the second, chocked up and near tears.

“I've never hurt anyone, I swear! Please let me live. Let me leave, don't come after me, please, please, _please don't kill me_!!”

Dean sits up, slowly, trying to ignore how the room spins around him and his head throbs in pain. He puts his hands out in placation, “Hey Dan, hey, calm down. I didn't come here to kill you, Jesus Christ. I just wanted a goddamn tree. No one's gonna kill you, come on.”

Dan hesitates, but he let's his arms sink slightly.

“You're... you're a hunter,” he says, his voice quivering, confused and frightened, “I could smell it on you, the rock salt, the silver, the holy water, and something else, something – angelic? I thought you could only be here to, to,” then his voice seems to give out.

Dean sighs.

It figures that he'd pick the only godforsaken tree farm that's run by a werewolf, of all things.

“Dan, I understand why you're freaked. But, and I know that sounds weird, believe me, but this is just a coincidence. I had no idea you were a wolf. If I wanted you dead – which I don't – you'd be dead. Ok? Since I'm not dead, I figure you're one of the good guys. So let's just uh. Pretend this never happened?”

Dan stares at him as if Dean had just said something completely outrageously. Like, asked Dan to marry him. Which, no, sorry but he's taken. Jesus, he's dizzy and he wants out of this stupid freezing cellar.

“You are a very strange hunter,” Dan finally chokes out, but he lowers Dean's gun.

Dean blows out a relieved breath, exhausted down to his bones.

“Yeah, it's been said. Help me up?”

>

They stumble up the stairs together, or more like, Dan hauls Dean up the stairs, because apparently he's twisted his ankle upon falling down, which is just terrific. But Dan had been scared out of his mind, Dean can't really blame the guy for freaking out.

The longer Dan is in his presence, the more apologetic and distressed he gets. Dean tries to calm him down, but he's seriously tired and nothing he says seems to stop Dan from his guilt trip. It doesn't help that, upon realizing how dark it's outside, Dean finally thinks to ask Dan how long he was out, and then finds out that he's apparently lost two hours. Well, shit.

“Your uh, your phone rang a few times.”

Dean drags a hand down his face and checks. Two calls, and both are from Cas. _Dammit._

He texts him,

_**minor incident, sorry. gonna take about two hours longer, don't worry.** _

He figures it's not exactly a lie. He can tell Cas everything when he gets back, it's not like there's anything Cas could do right now anyway.

He tells Dan to pick out a tree and limps back to the truck. He's barely made it there when Dan is back, carrying the whole thing like it weighs nothing. He carefully lays it down and straps it to the truck bed so it doesn't roll around and get damaged during the drive.

And then he proceeds to refuse the money Dean tries to give him, flustered and ashamed and stammering how he doesn't deserve it.

Dean rolls his eyes, “Come on man, you need it and it's Christmas, well almost-Christmas. Don't make me force you.”

It's an empty threat, of course, even more so because Dean has to lean on the truck door while he's talking to Dan, his head swimming and his foot throbbing in pain, even when he leans all his weight on the other one. Driving the four and a half hours back is gonna be a nightmare, but what can you do.

Dan finally caves, although he still looks guilty as hell about the whole thing.

Dean claps him on the shoulder, “Take care, buddy,” and then proceeds to hop into the seat and figure out how he's gonna drive back without having to reduce the speed to a snail's pace, when Dan stops him with hesitant hand on his shoulder.

“But if I take this, you're gonna let me drive you back.”

Dean stares at him in utter confusion. “An hour ago you still thought I was gonna kill you, and now you want to drive me?”

Dan shifts nervously under his scrutiny, but he sounds determined when he says, “Please, it's the least I can do. You can't drive like this, it's dangerous. And – you know, not many, uh, people, would let me live, after, uh. There's not many who are nice to me after finding out what I am.”

Dean sighs. “Dan, seriously, it's ok. And how would you even get back?”

But apparently Dan is just as stubborn a bastard as everyone else in Dean's life, because he sets his jaw and is finally able to hold Dean's gaze.

“I'll hitchhike. Please. Let me help you.”

Dean shakes his head, but he has to smile. Damn, the kid is growing on him.

“Ok, come on. Hop in.”

Dan beams at him as if Dean had just told him he'd won the lottery.

“Just a second, I'll get my stuff. And close the shop, there's not gonna be many more customers anyway.”

A shame, Dean thinks vaguely, when Dan dashes for the office. These are the best trees he's ever seen.

>

Ten minutes later, they're on the road, and Dean is kind of thankful for the opportunity to rest his aching foot and lean his forehead against the cold window.

He's kind of dozing, when Dan asks, “Who are you gonna spend Christmas with? Your wife?”

Dean is just about to ask him how he knew about that, when he remembers, right, wedding ring.

He leans back against the window, but looks over to Dan, “My husband. And my brother, and several friends. Hopefully. Maybe. Don't know if all or really any of them are gonna show up. Most of them are more or less in the hunting lifestyle, you know. Not really used to stuff like Christmas.”

Dan shoots him a look, curious.

“But you wanted to? This year, I mean?”

Dean hums. “You don't get a lot of good things in this life. And it's. It's getting better, it's _been_ getting better, but I kinda. Just wanted to give them this. It's stupid, but.” He makes a helpless gesture with his hand.

Dan looks at the road, but he sounds calmer now, almost cheerful.

“I don't think it's stupid. I figure I can relate, kind of. It's a life in which. Small things matter.”

Then he laughs, blushes. “Sorry, I'm not really good with this stuff. And oh, I never got your name?”

Dean hesitates only a moment. His gut feeling says he can trust Dan.

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Of course, he instantly regrets it.

Dan goes pale and the car swerves a moment before he gets it back in control, and then he stares at Dean, open-mouthed.

“Dean Winchester?! _The_ Dean Winchester?!”

“Uh.”

Dean stares at Dan, adrenaline pounding along with the throb of the concussion. That reaction is definitely knew, at least from monsters.

“Oh my god, that means your husband – that's _Castiel_ ?! Oh my god, I have hurt you, _he is going to kill me_!!”

“Uh, Dan, buddy, calm down, ok, nobody's gonna kill you. You have my word.”

Dan quiets down, but he still looks freaked, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“Dan, how do you – how do you know about me? And about me and Cas?”

Dan looks over at him, but now the panic in his face has shifted to something more like adoration.

“Your love story, it's a _legend_! Oh my god, I can't believe I happened to – ”

Then Dan seems to remember he only got to know Dean via attacking him, but he still looks almost high with joy.

Dean shakes his head (or tries, then has to stop himself when it makes the dizziness worse) but then settles back into his seat and closes his eyes. Dan looks happy, much happier than when he'd been sitting behind his desk watching Christmas commercials. And in the end, who cares where happiness comes from.

>

Dean sleeps almost the whole ride back, shivering in his jacket even when Dan cracks the heat up higher. When he's awake, he coaxes Dan into telling him a bit about his life. Dan seems shy at first, but he gradually loosens up. It's almost hilarious, to watch a werewolf talk reverently about trees, how he's able to distinguish every single one by smell alone, and so always knows when they need water, or when something is wrong.

He reminds Dean a bit of Sam, when Sam was a kid and had just started his Epic Crush on books, and everything that they could tell him.

By the time they finally roll up at the bunker's entrance in the early morning, he's already made up his mind, and so when he asks Dan what his plans for Christmas were, and the kid looks away and makes a vague gesture, Dean claps him on the shoulder and goes, “Ok no, that's not gonna work. You're staying, and tomorrow or so we'll drive you back. No arguing,” he adds, when Dan's mouth drops open in shock.

"Charlie, Cas and Sam can brag all they want about preserving tree lives, but I bet neither of them has any real idea how to actually do that. So, if you stay, it's got like a 100% survival chance. You're like, a genius with trees.”

Dan stares at him and fuck, _oh fuck no_ , that better not be the quivering lip of impending tears.

As a diversion, but also because he probably should have thought of that earlier, “Listen, uh. Cas can be a _tiny_ bit over-protective, plus he's probably gonna be pissed at me because I didn't tell him exactly what happened. Yet. And, Sam, he shouldn't be here yet, but he can also be a little – ”

And yeah, Dean definitely should have thought earlier about this, because now the bunker's door flies open with a bang, and out storms a very pissed off former angel of the lord.

Dean drops his head in his hands.

“Oh, _fuck_.”

“Uh,” Dan utters, squirming in his seat, “maybe I should –”

But by then it's too late, because Cas is already wedging Dean's door open, growling, “I called you three hours ago, why –”

He cuts himself off, probably noticing Dean's black eye and his general roughed up appearance, and immediately swings his deadly glare over to Dan, who flinches in his seat like he's been slapped. Cas might be fallen, but he still senses when Dean is near, and he also still knows when someone isn't human.

“ _You_ –”

Dan looks like he's about to faint, so Dean decides it's high time that he intervenes. He catches Cas' hand, which instantly draws Cas' focus back to him, only Cas doesn't look any less murderous for it.

“Cas, hey, it's ok. It was a misunderstanding. My phone ran out of battery, and I didn't know Dan doesn't have one. I'm ok, he's a werewolf, he loves trees, and he's gonna spend Christmas with us.”

At this, utter silence descends onto the car. Dean finds himself being stared at by twin sets of round, disbelieving eyes, and squirms in his seat in embarrassment at the attention. What the fuck ever did he do to deserves this.

“Look, can we just get the tree inside?”

>

Cas helps, even though he looks decidedly smitey around the eyes upon discovering that Dean apparently twisted his ankle bad enough that he can't really walk on his own. He gets Dean inside and forces him down on the couch, throws every blanket on him that he can get his hands on, and then helps Dan with the tree.

Dean tries to stay awake, he does own Cas an explanation after all, but in less than a minute, he's out.

He wakes up again to soft voices and what feels like several hours later.

He cranes his head a bit and can just make out Cas and Dan sitting at the library table, talking quietly.

Huh. Would you look at that _._

He drifts for a while, then the talking stops and moments later, he feels the couch dip as a weight settles next to his head. Fingers start to card softly through his hair and Dean sleepily leans into it.

“Hmmm?”

“How are you feeling, Dean?”

Dean clears his throat, forces his eyes open, even though all he can see from this angle is the floor, and the outline of Cas' jeans-clad leg next to his head.

“Crappy. But, hey, I'm alive.”

Cas huffs out a breath of laugher, and Dean can just picture him, shaking his head at Dean with that soft fondness in his eyes.

“You have a light fever.”

Dean shrugs. He hadn't really noticed, but the way he's been feeling, it's probably not surprising.

The realization settles heavily in his chest though. Damn it. Of course he had to _fuck it up_ when –

Cas starts to say something, but Dean can already guess the general gist of what's it's gonna be, so he asks,

“Did anyone call? Charlie, Krissy, Garth?”

Cas hesitates. Dean can tell that Cas doesn't really wanna tell him, at least not right now.

“It's ok, Cas. You can tell me if they don't wanna come. It's ok.”

Cas blows out a harsh breath, and then seems to come to a decision.

“No, actually. They all called that they're gonna be here. In a few hours, I guess.”

Dean sits up, clumsily and too fast, but –

“Really?!”

Cas seems to be dumbstruck for a moment by the delighted expression on Dean's face, but then he only smiles and shakes his head, in that I-cannot-believe-this-man way he has.

“I should have know I wouldn't be able to stop you. But you can at least _let me help you_ , ok Dean?”

Dean raises his arms.

“Well, then help me up, nurse.”

Cas snorts, even though he does get up and reach for Dean's arms,

“I am not your nurse.”

>

Only, Cas is, kind of. He insists on wrapping Dean's foot in bandages to support it, then refuses to let Dean put his boots on again, and only shoves woolen socks and an extra shirt at Dean.

Dan is already in the kitchen when they get there, and though he still look a bit guilty at the way Dean is leaning on Cas to support most of his weight, and on the dark bruises on Dean's face, he seems downright ecstatic when Dean tells him he's on kitchen duty with him and Cas now. It's necessary anyway, for one thing because they don't have that much time left, and also because Dean has to hop everywhere he wants to go, and can't really stand long before getting dizzy.

In the end, Dean settles down on the table, giving instructions and preparing whatever can be prepared sitting.

Dan is actually quite good, at least once he stops being nervous and overly careful. He does almost burn the pasta sauce though, because he listens to something Cas tells him, and forgets what he's doing because he's too busy staring at him in awe.

Dean chuckles quietly to himself and continues chopping vegetables. Apparently, Dan was too shy to tell Cas about how monsters apparently have a crush on his and Cas' star-crossed lovers whatever-it-is story.

They're almost done with everything when Sam arrives. He walks into the kitchen, then does a double take. Ok, so maybe Dean could have warned him, but he figures he's gonna have to tell this story at least 30 more times today, and maybe he really doesn't want to do everything alone. Also, he was, maybe, a little bit distracted by joking around with Dan, and also by watching Cas cook, that look of utter concentration and also adorable impatience, when things didn't immediately work out the way he wanted.

Sam stares at Dan in confusion, then his gaze shifts to Dean and he freezes.

“Dean, what the _fuck_ happened.”

Dean sighs, let's the knife he's been chopping carrots with drop, and tiredly rubs his forehead.

“I uh, I can explain.”

Ten minutes later, Sam has his head in his hands, lamenting,

“You couldn't just, ask me to come get you? Or, just get _a normal tree_ , seriously Dean. You drive five hours to get a tree, and, naturally, you almost get yourself killed for it.”

“I wasn't _planning_ on getting myself killed. Almost-killed. And it was four and a half hours. And also, Cas already chewed me out for all of that.”

“I didn't, you were _asleep_.”

“Shut up, Cas.”

Dan looks decidedly uncomfortable through the whole thing, and watches Dean's gigantor little brother warily, but Cas actually comes to Dan's aide by asking Sam if he's seen the seriously great tree Dan picked out for them, and if Sam might help him hang up the glass tree balls on it.

Sam looks at them as if they're all collectively lost their minds in his opinion, but actually does get up and go with Cas.

Dan remains standing by the stove, nervously twisting a dish towel in his hands. They're basically done with everything now, and just in the nick of time, too. All that remains is setting the table, or that is, the library tables they're gonna shove together, since there's really not any other place big enough for that many people.

“Dean?”

Dean is just putting the rest of the neatly chopped carrots into a bowl when Dan shuffles closer, gaze fixed on the ground.

“You, just. Thank you,” he mumbles, shoulders twitching.

Dean puts the bowl down and turns further towards Dan from where he's sitting.

“It's nothing, Dan. And you did good.”

Dan looks up then, insisting,

“No, it wasn't nothing. Really, it's been.” He blinks. “But maybe I should go now. All your family is gonna be here, and –”

And no, Dean is not gonna have any of it.

“Dan,” he says, decidedly, “you basically saved Christmas, man. Couldn't have done it without you.”

Dan looks at him as if he's gone mad. Which, ok, maybe his fever is getting worse. But still.

“I almost _ruined_ Christmas.”

Dean shrugs. “Doesn't really matter to me. You're here now, you're gonna have fun. Capisce?”

Dan just continues to stare at him, so Dean rolls his eyes, embarrassed, “I bet Cas and Sam and ruining _the tree_ right now. Come on, go ahead, give 'em a hand.”

>

Dean is standing (more or less) at the counter, making sure none of the dishes grow cold and pulling plates out of the cupboards, when someone enters the kitchen, and a moment later, warm arms encircle him from behind.

He breathes in deeply, stops what he's doing, and leans back into Cas' solid strength.

“Hi,” he rasps, savoring Cas' warmth against his back.

“Hi yourself,” Cas rumbles back, and he has his face pressed against Dean's shoulder, his voice practically reverberating through Dean's ribcage.

For a moment, neither of them speak. Dean's soaking up Cas' presence, the way he holds onto Dean gently, mindful of his bruises, but firmly at the same time, his fingers twisted into the fabric of Dean's shirt.

Finally, Cas pulls away, reluctantly, and then gently turns Dean around by the shoulder to catch his eyes.

“I like the tree balls you picked out,” he says, in his gravelly, most-serious voice. The thing is, after all this time Dean still sometimes has trouble making out if Cas is actually being serious when he's using that voice, or if he's fucking with Dean.

“They reflect and bundle all the light. Their shine, it's very. Gentle.”

Cas is staring at him as he says this, his eyes boring into Dean with that same otherwordly focus he's always had, and Dean gets the distinct feeling he's willing him to understand something other than what he's saying.

“Um, that's. Good?” he tries, feeling himself blush for reasons he can't really determine.

Only, Cas' mouth tugs up at the corners as he says it, and there's that softness back in his eyes.

“Yes,” he repeats, “very good.”

He can still feel Cas smiling when he kisses him, gently, slowly, and maybe Dean gets a little bit lost in it, coaxing Cas' mouth open under his, tugging Cas closer and burying his hands in Cas' hair.

When Dan walks into the kitchen a few minutes later to come and find them, the sight is apparently enough to almost give the poor kid a heart attack.

>

Garth had apparently called earlier to say that he was gonna pick up Charlie and Gilda from the bus station, so the next people arriving are actually Kevin, and then Krissy and her friends.

The all stare at the giant ass tree and the food laid out on the table in open-mouthed shock.

“Dean, what the fuck,” Krissy mocks him, but she's laughing when she says it, companionably boxing Dean against the shoulder.

Dan is standing kind of awkwardly to the side, but Krissy is of course not gonna have that, and soon enough she's drawn him and Kevin right into the middle of her friends.

Charlie, Garth and Gilda arrive soon after that. Cas leaves Dean's side momentarily to help Gilda get in – it takes a moment, but whatever he's done to alter the wards, it seems to have worked.

Gilda is apparently quite happy with how they're handling the tree, and after only a few minutes she's already engaging Dan into a literally flowery discussion about different kinds of plants, while the rest of Dean's extended family is mostly occupied with shoving food down their gullets.

It's fucking _perfect_.

Later, Charlie and the kids migrate to the couch to plug Kevin's PlayStation in, because of course it was only a matter of time until Charlie would challenge Kevin to beat her at Dragon Age II, or however it's called. They try, unsuccessfully, to get Dan and Gilda over to teach them to play, but the two of are still immersed in their nerd talk about trees.

Garth and Sam are similarly engaged in a discussion with Cas, who is lecturing them about something or another that the mythology department apparently got wrong in their research.

Dean tries to listen – he likes Cas' stories, still feels like he's getting to know the guy, piece for unraveling piece, but mostly it's just more comfortable to lean his head on Cas' shoulder, feel the vibrations of Cas' voice in his own chest.

He's kind of drifting in and out, half asleep, but can't help but stare at the tree across from him. It's slightly bend in places, no doubt due to their journey here and the manhandling it around. But it still stands tall, strong, _fucking alive_.

He blinks sleepily and damn, Cas is right. They really shine gently.

In his lap, Cas' hand sneaks into his.


End file.
